


A Little More Touch Me

by AdylaidK



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Self-Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:16:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3417263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdylaidK/pseuds/AdylaidK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey guys! So this is a transplant from my blogspot/blogger because that wasn't getting any traffic and I REALLY want some feedback! I've got like 5 or 6 chapters done, so I'm going to do a pretty massive post of them right now. Let me know, okay?</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. What a Catch

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this is a transplant from my blogspot/blogger because that wasn't getting any traffic and I REALLY want some feedback! I've got like 5 or 6 chapters done, so I'm going to do a pretty massive post of them right now. Let me know, okay?

_I got troubled thoughts_  
 _And the self-esteem to match_  
 _What a catch, what a catch_  


I was cleaning up the daycare center, all of the kids and staff gone for the day, dancing around and singing, my earbuds in as I worked. I picked up a toy, knowing didn't belong to the center, thinking about where I’d seen it before. I remembered and smiled softly, tucking it into my bag. As I continued my work, it began to storm. It was well after dark when I finally finished, running out to my car. I grabbed the CD case from my glove box, reading off the address and realizing I knew exactly where the house was. I zipped up my jacket to hide the FOB shirt I'd worn, taking my hair down and touching up my makeup before driving through the Chicago streets, pulling up in front of a house with Wentz scrawled across the mailbox. I pulled my bag over my body, took a deep breath, and got out, running through the rain up onto the stoop, ringing the bell. Shit, it was cold out here, and just that short run up the driveway had my clothes soaked through.

Oh, shit, this is creepy, I should leave... I thought, then turned to leave and heard the door open behind me. I froze, instantly recognizing his voice. Shit. Shit shit shit shit SHIT. This is NOT happening.

"Change your mind about something?" He asked. I turned.

"Um...okay, this is creepy. I didn't expect you to be here...I clean up the day care center after I finish with class," I rambled at incredible speeds, my Southern accent coming out, and pulled the toy from my bag. "I saw it tonight and he seems pretty attached to it, but I don't have access to the files and I had that first album and I remembered the interview and I knew the address was on there but I swear I never looked at it til tonight, and I just...thought Bronx might want it...so many toys get lost in that place..." I looked up and he was leaning against the door frame with this really amused expression. "What?"

"Are you done?" He asked, smiling.

"Y-Yeah..." Just then a little blonde boy came running up, hiding behind Pete's legs.

"Who is it, Daddy?" He asked. He saw the toy and his eyes lit up.

I bent down, holding it out to him with a smile. Bronx looked up at Pete, who nodded. He took the toy and ran back inside.

"His mom gave it to him," he explained.

"I...it's really not my business, and I didn't mean to..."

"No, he won't sleep without it. Thank you." He looked up at the sky and snatched my keys. "Not safe to drive, come in," he said, walking into the house more. I opened my mouth, then closed it again and stepped inside, closing the door gently.

"Oh, sweetie, you're soaked!" His mom said as Pete went to put Bronx to bed. "Come, I've got some old stuff that's about your size."

My eyes went wide. "Oh, no, I...I couldn't...intrude...I'd be gone already but my keys kinda got stolen..."

She laughed. "We're not going to hurt you, dear. At least get into something dry, and if he won't hand over your keys we'll call you a cab if you still insist on leaving."

I sighed and agreed, following her up the stairs. The woman gave me an old pair of skinnies and a vintage New Order tee to change into. "There are towels in the bathroom," she said, showing me to the bathroom and where the towels were. "Just put your clothes on top of the basket and I'll toss them in the dryer."

"Thanks," I said, locking the door and pulling out my phone, texting my roommates. **'I'm safe, you'll never guess where I am. Details later, phone's almost dead. Probably gonna try to wait out the storm.'** I stripped out of my clothes and shoes - converse and water don't mix well. I folded the clothes so that the FOB shirt was well hidden and propped my shoes upside down against the wall of the shower like I'd done a million times before to speed the drying process. I pulled on the clean, dry clothes and tried to towel dry my hair quickly, like it would magically not be thick and annoying tonight. I got it to dry some, in a way that didn't knot it up, which resulted in a scrunched-looking effect. I checked my face in the mirror, thanked God and Avon for waterproof makeup, and stepped out into the hallway. His mom smiled and got the clothes, throwing them in the dryer downstairs. While I stood there awkwardly in the hall, I heard Pete telling Bronx a bedtime story. I smiled, listening in shamelessly. He came out and saw me standing there.

"Mom forgot about you, didn't she?"

I shrugged. "She wouldn't be the first," I said, then blushed. _Christ, Thecla, he's not an album, he's an actual living person who doesn't need to know your issues..._ I thought to myself. He just smiled a bit.

"No shoes...guess you're gonna hang out for a while?"

"I got the impression it wasn't much of an option," I said.

"Smart girl. Come on," he said, grinning amusedly and leading me down to the living room. "Have a seat, pick a movie," he said, crashing down on one end of the couch, pulling Netflix up on the TV.

I swallowed nervously, curling up on the opposite end of the couch. "Uh...doesn't matter, whatever you want to watch is fine..." He shook his head a bit, still amused. "I'm sorry, is this funny to you?" I asked him.

"Yeah, actually."

"So you enjoyed watching people teeter on the brink of an anxiety attack?" I blushed brightly again.

His smile faded. "Are you really on the brink on an anxiety attack?"

"No...yes...sort of..."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why? Do you realize the effect your music, your story has had on people?"

"Enlighten me."

I stared at him for a moment, then looked down at my hands, swallowing nervously again. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter."

His mom popped her head into the room. "Peter, dear, we're going to bed. Feed the poor girl, and check her clothes every now and then. I'm sure she has better things to do than stay up all night with you."

"Alright, mom, sleep well," he said. His mom left and I could feel him looking at me. "You do matter," he told me gently. I took a shaky breath.

"I grew up in a really tiny town...if you didn't fit the mold, you didn't matter. You didn't get chosen for anything, even when it was something adults were supposed to choose based on merit. I wasn't in a good place then...I...your music stopped me from doing things I wish I'd never considered, and I didn't feel so alone. It was more than just the music, though, it was your story. So, yes, I'm anxious and nervous around you. Hell, I'm anxious and nervous around just about anyone, but you...you make me wish I'd let them give me the meds..."

"There's nothing wrong with meds," he said.

"There's something very wrong with taking meds you don't need, especially anxiety meds, and since I moved here, I don't need them. I've been functioning just fine."

He sighed. "Hungry?"

"Nope."

"Tired?"

I laughed a bit. "Oh, incredibly, but I don't do the whole sleep-at-night thing, so it’s a moot point right now."

He nodded.

"I don't know why I just told you any of that," I told him, blushing. "I don't trust people, and you don't even know my name..."

"What is your name?"

"Thecla."

"As in apocryphal texts Thecla?"

"Yep."

"That's interesting."

"Yeah, it didn't win me any brownie points in school. But I like it anyway, I love her story. It...helps."

"I like her too," he said, nodding. He picked a movie and we settled into silence.

Two movies later, we were both still wide awake. My phone beeped and I jumped, then rummaged through my bag, pulling it out. "Shit...do you have a charger?"

He nodded. "If you'll make popcorn, I'll go grab it," he said. I agreed, getting a little more comfortable. He led me to the kitchen and grabbed the box of popcorn down for me. When he did, his shirt rose up some and I caught a glimpse of the infamous tattoo just over the line of his boxers, blushing and looking away. He smiled and headed off to his room as I stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave. I watched the time, stopping it early so that the sound wouldn't wake anyone. He walked back in just as I was pulling the bag out. I shook it around and closed the microwave gently, then traded him for the charger, walking into the living room and bending down to plug it in. "I spy ink," he said teasingly, and I yanked the shirt down in the back.

"I was sixteen, stupid, and drinking on top of everything else fucked up in my head. That's the only information you're getting.”

He laughed and we settled back onto the couch. “Very unladylike language, you know,” he teased.

“Well I didn’t learn it in church,” I said.

“Are you suggesting that I corrupted your vocabulary?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

“Well, I’m appalled by your accusation.”

“It wasn’t an accusation, it was a verdict.”

“I don’t see a jury anywhere.”

“Got twelve peers you’d like to call out in the storm, Mr. Wentz? Character witnesses?”

He grinned, shaking his head.

“So you waived your right to a trial by jury, then, and you’ve been handed your verdict.”

“Okay, then, what’s my sentence?”

I thought for a moment. “You’ll be forced to watch very nerdy things on Netflix,” I said, taking the remote and looking for something in particular. I’d just started episode one of Doctor Who, “Rose”, when my phone rang in time with the opening title.

“Ooh, matching ringtone, very nerdy. I approve,” he said.

“Oh, I stopped looking for approval ages ago, Mr. Wentz,” I said answering the call. “Yeeees?”

“No more waiting, details now. Where are you?!” My roommates asked. I was obviously on speakerphone.

“I’m on a couch,” I said. “Watching Doctor Who. Which you are interrupting, so everyone puts a quarter in the jar.” I grinned over at him.

“WHOSE COUCH?!” The begged in unison and I had to hold the phone away from my ear for a moment.

“I think you should guess,” I said, putting them on speaker, amused.

“Ugh, fine, ummmm….is it in a hotel or a house?”

“House.”

“Okay, who lives in Chicago…..oh, that cute guy from your psych class?”

“No.”

“Your psych professor?”

“God, no.”

“Ummmm...the guy downstairs?”

“No. Think bigger.”

“Bigger as in heavier?”

“Bigger as in you know the name.”

“Oh! Okay, um...Matt Smith?”

“Lets try to stick with Americans, guys.”

“Brendon Urie.”

“No.”

“Ryan Ross.”

“No.”

“OHMYFUCKINGGODISITANDY?!”

“No, Sarina, it’s not.”

“P-Patrick?”

“Nope, try again.” She grinned.

“Joe?”

“No.”

“Okay, um...Obama?”

“Obama doesn’t live in Chicago anymore, guys.”

“Obama’s mom?”

“No, darling, that would be Hawaii. Go back, you were getting close and I’m getting bored.”

“Close when?”

“Band members.”

“Lives in Chicago?”

“Okay, has family in Chicago.” There was a dead silence for what seemed like five minutes.

“I swear to God, Thecla, if you’re sitting on Pete Wentz’s couch and you had no intention of telling us until God knows when, you’re gonna need to stay there for a while and let us get our anger in check.”

“We do have an extra guest room,” he said, and the girls shrieked. I quickly grabbed the phone and took it off speaker.

“Honestly, you guys, it is late and people are sleeping.”

“You’re not sleeping.”

“Oh, so I never sleep at night but suddenly there’s a male around and me not sleeping turns sexual? Thanks guys, I feel like a really moral person now.”

“Okay, okay, HOW?”

“Can that at least wait until later?”

“Oh hells no. How did you wind up there?!”

“Bronx left something at daycare and I brought it to them.”

“That doesn’t explain while you’re still there.”

“Storm.”

“Neither does that.”

“My keys were confiscated to keep me from driving in the storm.”

“Confiscated by who?”

“Who do you think?”

“Are his parents home?”

“Yes…”

“Is Bronx there?”

“No, Bronx is out riding the roads by himself.”

“No need to get bitchy.”

“You’re interrupting my attempts to convert someone to the Whovian lifestyle. You should know me well enough to expect bitchy.”

“Fine, fine. We’ll let you go.”

“Wait. I know things about both of you that you wish to be kept secret, yes?”

“Yes…”

“Then keep this to yourselves. It’s not a thing, it doesn’t need to become a thing because you can’t keep yourselves from blabbing.”

“Fiiiiiine,” they whined.

“Good girls. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I looked up and he was looking at me, amused. “Am I allowed to find that amusing?”

“My certifiable, incredibly embarrassing roommates? Always.”

“Andy doesn’t have many fangirls.”

“I’m pretty sure Sarina is crazy enough to make up for it.”

He laughed and turned his attention back to the screen. I found myself welcoming the break in attention.

A few hours later, we were still watching Doctor Who.

“It’s a good show.”

“It’s an amazing show. Stick with it, you’ll be hooked. My favorite line from it is when the Doctor - a later regeneration, mind you - says “you know that in nine hundred years of time and space I've never met anybody who wasn't important before.” I wish I’d found the show sooner than I did.”

“That’s a very important point to be made.”

“I think so. Most Whovians don’t fit the molds either. Not everyone listens to the right kind of music to get messages like that. Different formats for different people.”

He smiled at me, and after a moment I looked over.

“What?” I asked him.

“‘It’s not a thing’?” He asked me. I blushed.

“I figured your publicist or whoever probably didn’t want it to be a thing.”

“That’s very selfless of you.”

"I’ve nothing to gain by being associated with you. I like my job, I like my roommates. For the first time in a long time, I like where I’m at in my life. I don’t need people to know we hung out to feel like I’m important.”

“And what if I want it to be a thing?” He asked. I looked over at him.

“I...do you want it to be a thing? I’m just some stranger who showed up at your parents door all stalker-like.”

“I wouldn’t mind trying to make it a thing.” He’d moved closer to me on the couch. When did that happen? We were practically sitting side by side now.

“I...I’ve never actually...been involved in a thing before.”

“You’ve never been involved in a thing?”

“No.”

“Not even a tiny thing?”

“Not even a tiny thing.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“Can. I. Kiss. You?”

“Won’t that make this a thing?”

“I want this to be a thing. Doesn’t have to be a front-page thing.”

“So you want this to be a casual thing?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh…”

“So, can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Kiss you,” he said, exasperated.

“Oh...I...I guess…” I blushed.

He leaned in, holding my face, one hand on each cheek, and gently pressed his lips against mine. I tensed, unsure what to do at first.

“The key to a thing is not worrying about the thing,” he murmured against my lips.

“O-Okay…”

He pressed his lips against mine gently again, and I made myself calm down. I guess he sensed that I had relaxed, because he began to move his lips, and so I moved mine. My heart raced as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, and our two tongues began a dance that came completely naturally.

I don’t know how long the kiss lasted, but when he broke it to rest his forehead against mine, I was in his lap, one of his hands in my hair and the other on my back, and we were both out of breath.

“Is...do things usually...feel like this?”

“Not quite like this, no,” he said. “That was your first kiss?” He asked, just to be sure. I nodded a bit. “And?” He asked.

“And...do it again?” I asked. He didn’t have to be asked twice, pulling me closer and kissing me again, deeper this time. I moaned softly and he pushed me gently onto the couch, running his hands along my sides. After a moment, he broke the kiss again.

“So, you’ve never…?”

“Never.” I felt his weight leave me as he sat up, running his hand through his hair. He kept looking at me, then away, like he couldn’t decide something.

“How old are you?” I blushed.

“T-Twenty three,” I stammered, “next week…”

“You realized I’m more than a decade older than you?”

“Yes…”

“And everything you said earlier…”

“What about it?”

“I feel like I’m taking advantage of you…”

“We haven’t really done anything,” I said, sitting up as well. “And I feel like I owe you for how your music helped me, but I don’t owe you that. I am an adult who can make her own rational decisions. Don’t think I’m so easily taken advantage of.”

“Are you...offended?” He asked.

“A little, yeah.”

“I...I didn’t mean to offend you, it was supposed to be...I dunno, gentlemanly and shit…”

I giggled. “You don’t get to say ‘gentlemanly and shit’. It just doesn’t work.”

He smiled. “Do you want your keys back?”

“Not right now. Why’d you take them anyway?”

He shrugged. “I wanted some company.”

“So the storm was an excuse?”

“Yeah.”

“And why not Patrick or somebody you actually knew?”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t really looking for company until you showed up.”

“So you specifically wanted my company?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“Because a beautiful young woman walked up to my parents’ door on my last night in town, soaked to the bone from a storm, because she cares about my kid, and I got good vibes from her.” He shrugged. “It kinda seemed like one of those moments you don’t pass up.”

I blushed and crashed my lips against his, wrapping my arms around his neck and falling back onto the couch, all hesitation gone. After what could’ve been 15 seconds or 15 minutes 2 hours of the two of us in a tangle of arms and legs, tongues and moans and groans, he broke the kiss. “Do you want to…?”

“Yes,” I answered quickly. He groaned and kissed me again, picking me up from the couch and carrying me into the downstairs guest bedroom. He closed and locked the door, I think, before laying me on the bed, crawling on top of me.

“You’re sure?”

“For Christ’s sake, Pete, I’ll stop you if I change my mind.”

He grinned and crashed his lips against mine again, his hands trailing down my body, exploring. I slid my hands under his shirt, feeling his abs. He sat up and pulled the shirt over his head, pulling his belt off and tossing it aside as well. He sat down and pulled me into his lap, kissing me deeply, hungrily, before pulling the New Order shirt over my head. My bra and panties had been soaked as well, and were in the dryer with everything else. This seemed to just now be dawning on him because he pushed me back down onto the bed, kissing my neck as he pushed the too-big skinnies off my hips with ease. He bit me gently and I moaned again, tangling my hands in his hair. He slid down, out of reach of me, and I propped myself up on my elbows to look down at him. He grinned mischievously and yanked the jeans off the rest of the way before lifting my legs onto his shoulders. He ducked his head and I felt his lips on me. I gasped, falling back onto the bed. His tongue flicked across my clit and I let out a moan just as the power went out in the house. We were bathed in darkness except for the lightning, and he didn’t miss a beat, pushing one finger into me. I gasped and arched towards him, turning my head to moan into the pillow as he pushed another finger into me, moving them around. He moved up and turned my head, kissing me deeply, still pumping his fingers in and out of me, adding another. I wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair, moaning into the kiss. He pulled his fingers out, pushing his pants down and positioning himself at my entrance. He broke the kiss enough to look down at me, searching my face for any hesitation.

“Please,” I breathed desperately. He groaned and kissed me again, pushing himself into me. I inhaled sharply, my nails digging into his back, and he stopped. “I’m okay,” I promised him and he began to push in more, slowly, until he was completely inside me.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned. I moaned and he pulled out and pushed back in, sliding into me easier this time, and I arched, moaning louder, and buried my face in his neck as he began to move faster, keeping up a steady pace, groaning. I felt something building low in my belly, and I moaned again.

“Ooooh, Pete,” I moaned.

The building continued as he moved faster, until suddenly everything tightened and I lost it, screaming out his name and bucking up towards him. Thank God he had more sense than me, pressing his hand over my mouth as soon as my muscles tightened to muffle the sound the sound of my orgasm.

He moved his hand suddenly, replacing it with his mouth as I felt something warm shoot into me. He groaned loudly into the kiss, rolling onto his back and pulling me with him. I lay on top of him, still shaking from the force of the orgasm, and he pulled a blanket around us, holding me. “Sleep,” he murmured into my hair, and I drifted off into a world of dreams that, for the first time in a very long time, didn't morph into nightmares.


	2. Lullabye

  
_It doesn't matter how you feel_  
Life is just a Ferris wheel  
It's always up and down  
Don't make a sound   


The next morning I woke up, feeling the sun shining on my face. The first thing I realized was that I was naked. I swallowed. _Did that really happen? No way, it had to be another of my stupid fangirl dreams..._ I looked around. I was in a room I didn't recognize, alone. My clothes and shoes were sitting on a chair, my bag hanging on the back of it, my phone plugged in by the bed with my keys next to it. I swallowed, sitting up, holding the sheets to myself, and went over to make sure the door was locked before pulling my clothes on frantically. I grabbed my phone off the charger and my keys, not even noticing the note on the pillow. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail to try and hide how horribly tangled it was and opened the door, peeking out. I could hear Pete in the living room, talking to Bronx about how different cartoons were now. I closed the door to the room gently, then walked slowly, quietly through the hallway to the front door. Opening it, I stepped outside into the sunlight. The most beautiful day Chicago had seen in ages, and I felt like the biggest whore imaginable. I closed the door as quietly as I could and crossed the lawn to my car, still parked on the curb. _Hold it together, Thecla. Just until you get to the car. Hold it together..._ I unlocked the door and got in, and drove off. By the time I made it to the stop sign at the end of the road, I was sobbing. I drove through town, not sure where I was going. I drove around for what had to be hours before my phone started to ring.  
"H-Hello?" I choked out.  
"Thecla? Sweetie, what's wrong, where are you?" Sarina asked. I looked around, trying to figure out where I was.  
"I'm almost home," I said. "I...I'm so stupid, Sarina...I..." I sobbed again.  
"Oh my god, you didn't..."  
"I'm such a whore!" I sobbed out, sitting at a green light.  
"No, Thecla, you're not a whore...far from it...you just got starstruck, ok? It happens, and then you come home for rum and ice cream with your roommates and you move on."  
"N-No, I...I need to...to talk to...someone...someone else, f-first...I...I'll call you l-later..."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yeah, I'm s-sure..."  
"Okay...we love you."  
"Love you too. I'm okay." And I hung up. _I'm so far from okay...maybe she bought it, though. Probably not. Sarina knew me too well to buy that load of shit._  
I turned into the parking garage and easily found a spot, digging through the crap in my car until I found her card, calling the emergency number.  
"This is Doctor Adams," the woman said. I lost what little control I'd mustered and began to sob again.  
"It's Th-Thecla...I...I need..."  
"Thecla, calm down, okay? Where are you?"  
"I'm in the p-parking garage..."  
"Okay. I'll be there in fifteen."  
"K-k-kay," I choked, and the line went dead. I got out and walked out of the garage, around to her office, sitting on the sidewalk by the door. I pulled out my iPod and put in my earbuds, turning it on, but for once, the music only made me feel worse. I threw it down and stomped it over and over again, still sobbing, and looked up. Of course Dr. Adams saw the angry outburst. Of course she did.  
"Come inside, Thecla," she said calmly. I stood, gripping my bag, and walked in. We went back to the office. "Would you like some water?" I shook my head no. "Alright. Tell me what's happened."  
"I...I..." I took a deep breath and launched into the story of how I came to be where I was.  
"So what has you upset, Thecla?" I looked at her like she was the crazy one. "Well," she said, "you had to have known that it would just be casual sex, a one night thing."  
"I...I...I know, I just...I couldn't...there's like...it's this pull...I can't...I couldn't think...I couldn't...control myself...my...my mind was running w-wild, I don't..."  
"Thecla, you've always told me you didn't want to have sex until you were married. What changed your mind?"  
"N-Nothing..."  
"Your actions speak differently."  
"No, I just told you! I couldn't focus, I couldn't think, I just...did..."  
"Stop making excuses for yourself."  
"I'm not! I...it's like there's this...this electricity...I couldn't...I couldn't resist it, I couldn't resist him...I...from the moment he opened the door, all I wanted...all I could think about was...was..." I blushed. "What happened."  
"This isn't like you, Thecla. You've never had trouble resisting the advances men have made."  
I laughed. "People don't make advances on me. They don't."  
"He did."  
"I was just some...some stupid fan girl...I...I'm so mad at h-him...I'm so mad at myself...I...he kn-knew...he knew what the music got me through, and now...now I can't stand to hear it..."  
"Thecla, what's done is done. You can't undo it. So why are you here?"  
"I...I want the p-pills...I...I can't stop sh-shaking..."  
"Thecla, we've discussed putting you on clonazepam before, and you've always been vehemently opposed to it."  
"I've always been able to get my anxiety under control...I..."  
"And you probably won't have any trouble now, so long as you stay away from him..."  
"I...I just...what if I can't? I...I won't take them if I don't need them, I just..."  
"You want the security." I nod. "Alright, I'll prescribe them, provided you'll take a long-term anti-depressant. We don't want this becoming something that keeps you from class or work. I know you don't think you need them, Thecla, but your depression is severe. It isn't Sarina's responsibility to make you go to class."  
"I...I...o-okay..." Dr. Adams nodded and wrote me the prescriptions.  
"Are you alright to drive, Thecla?" I just nodded. "Alright. Now, the rules. With the clonazepam, start with half a pill the first time. If they make you sleepy, you've taken too much. These are not for every day, Thecla. I'm only giving you ten, do you understand? I will not refill this. Your anti-depressant should kick in long before you finish the clonazepam, and once it does you won't need them. You are to take the anti-depressant at the same time every day. For most people I would recommend morning so that they don't keep you up at night, but I'm going to leave that decision up to you. If you don't think you can take them at the same time every morning, take them later in the day. Okay?" I nodded again. "Okay, here you go." I took the prescriptions and walked back out to my car, getting in and driving to the pharmacy. I took the new meds and buried them deep in my purse, my new secret. On my way out, I passed the family planning section and my eyes went wide. _Oh, shit. Did he...I don't remember him...oh my God..._ I started shaking and bought a bottle of water, taking one of the clonazepam as soon as I made it to my car. I leaned my head back against the headrest, closing my eyes. _Fifteen minutes to take effect. Just breathe for fifteen minutes and you'll be fine._ I guess I dozed off, because the next thing I knew it was noon and Sarina was blowing up my phone.  
"Hey, I'm okay, I'm sorry..."  
"Dammit, Thecla, I was about to call the cops."  
"I just...I stopped at a park and I guess dozed off. I'm okay, I'm on my way home." I could hear her sigh.  
"Okay. I'm ordering sushi for lunch, do you want some?"  
"No, I'm not hungry. Thanks, though. I'm not too far from the apartment, I'm coming straight there."  
"Alright, hun. I'll be here."  
"What about Tracy?"  
"She left this morning. Going home for a few weeks, remember?"  
"Oh...right..."  
"Right. You sure you're okay?"  
"Yeah. Traffic's pretty bad, I'll see you soon."  
"Alright hun."  
I ended the call and tossed my phone into the other seat, taking a few shaky breaths before pulling out into the road.  
With the lunchtime traffic, it took me almost half an hour to make it home. I tried to unlock the door, but my hands were shaking and I kept dropping my keys. Finally, Sarina opened the door, raising an eyebrow.  
"Oh, yeah, you look TOTALLY fine," she said sarcastically. 'A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me' filled the apartment. _God, he was hot in that video..._  
"Turn that shit off," I snapped, heading straight for my room.  
"Shit? What are you talking about, you love this song..."  
"Not anymore. Damn, Sarina, how insensitive can you fucking be? Not all of us make a habit of sleeping with any guy that will have us," I spat, slamming my bedroom door behind me and crashing down onto my bed. The music got louder and I screamed, throwing a book at the wall and pulling a pillow over my head to try and smother the music...or maybe myself. Probably both. When she finally turned it off, I rolled onto my back and began texting Lena.  
 **'Remind me why I haven't moved out?'**  
 **'No fucking clue, I keep telling you to come live with me.'** I laughed a bit.  
 **'What happened?'** She texted when I didn't reply.  
 **'You know how Pete Wentz's parents live in Chicago? Well, I went over there last night because Bronx left a toy at the day care. Long story short, I woke up naked and alone this morning and realized I'm a complete fucking idiot.'**  
 **'Alone? What an ASS! I'm sorry, sweetie. :('**  
 **'Yeah, alone. Completely. With all of my shit right there. It was all very GTFO.'**  
 **'WTF!!!'**  
 **'Yeah, so I did, and I went and saw Dr. Adams.'**  
 **'What'd she say?'**  
 **'Nothing particularly helpful. I finally let her put me on meds.'**  
 **'Good. It's not so bad, hun. Once you find the right ones, everything gets better. I promise.'**  
 **'I hope so. I killed my iPod today too.'**  
 **'You worked ages for that!'**  
 **'I know, I just...I can't stand it right now. It reminds me of him, and last night. Which is how me and Sarina got into a fight.'**  
 **'Insensitive bitch.'**  
 **'I love how you already know what happened.'**  
My phone started ringing, a number I didn't recognize.  
"Hello?" I asked, trying to sound fine. Maybe it was someone calling about a babysitting gig and I wouldn't have to go back to that stupid day care.  
"Shit, where the hell are you? Are you okay? What the FUCK, Thecla, I thought you'd gone and done something stupid, I've been calling you all day!"  
"Excuse you?!" I snapped back. "I woke up ALONE with all my shit there, so I took the hint and fucking left. How the hell did you even get my number, did you go through my phone?!"  
"No, I didn't go through your phone, I just used it to call mine when I couldn't find it, which you'd know if you'd read the fucking note I left before you went all fucking psycho and disappeared!"  
"Psycho? Really? YOU are calling ME psycho?"  
"What the hell does that mean?!"  
"It means you're a complete and total ASS! You can't just fuck me, leave me alone, and then call all pissed off that I left! What the HELL is your problem?!"  
"You didn't read the fucking note! Goddammit, woman! I left it for a fucking reason!"  
"I didn't see the damn note, okay? And really, a fucking NOTE?! It was my first fucking time, and instead of sticking around you leave a goddamn note and YOU'RE pissed at ME?!"  
"I have a kid, Thecla. I had to be in MY bed when he went in there to get me up. Don't you fucking think about shit before you act?!" I swallowed.  
"You could've woken me up before you left," I said, calmer now. "It would've saved me about 400 bucks."  
"You said you don't sleep, I figured you needed it. And what do you mean, saved you 400 bucks?" I sighed.  
"Nothing, forget it. What do you want from me, exactly? You live in LA. You're leaving today, remember?"  
"I extended the trip," he said, "and I want you to come over here so we can discuss this like adults instead of a couple of fucking kids."  
"I'm not coming back over there. In fact, I'm seriously considering quitting my job."  
"Why?"  
"Because I don't want to see you! I can't think around you. You do something to me that I can't explain, and I don't FUCKING like it. I was waiting. It was important to me and then last night it just...flew out the window and I turned into some stupid little whore."  
"You're not a whore. And I asked you over and over."  
"I know you did. I'm not saying it's your fault, I just...I don't know. I'm so fucking confused right now. I'm all over the place, and I had a fight with my roommate and I just can't do this right now!"  
"And you think you don't need meds?" He asked, dumbfounded.  
"I think it's perfectly natural to be having trouble coping with this, actually," I snapped. "This time yesterday, sex was nowhere on my radar. I've never done ANYTHING with ANYONE, including myself, and I've never even been TEMPTED to! And then I go over there to do something nice, and you turn me into some squirming, screaming, uncontrollable, immoral...I don't even know. Right now, I'm not sure who I am anymore. I'm pissed, and I'm ashamed, and I feel like I should be apologizing to...I don't even know, my future husband?" I could hear him breathing on the other line. "Well, are you going to say something?" 'A Little Less Sixteen Candles' started blaring again. "GODDAMMIT SARINA I TOLD YOU TO TURN THAT SHIT OFF!" I said, snatching my door open and going out to turn it off myself. I could hear it coming from the bathroom, could hear the water running. I tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. "Sarina, unlock the fucking door!" I paled. "Oh, god..." I dropped the phone and starting pounding on the door. "SARINA, OPEN THE DOOR! I'M SORRY, OKAY? I DIDN'T MEAN WHAT I SAID, I JUST...I'M MAD AT MYSELF, OKAY?" I started sobbing again, trying to knock the door down. "SARINA, SAY SOMETHING OR I'M CALLING 911!" I waited a moment, then grabbed my phone and ended the call, dialing 911, shaking, freaking out. "My roommate, she...she's locked herself in the bathroom somehow, but the door doesn't lock...I can't get it open...we had a fight a few hours ago...yes, she does...please..." I sobbed, trying to get the clonazepam open. "1132 East 131st, apartment 4C...yeah, we're in Riverdale...no, there's no buzzer...no, she didn't answer...I told her if she didn't say anything, I was gonna call 911 and she didn't say anything..." I finally got it open and took one of the pills, dry swallowing it. "Yeah, I can stay on the line...thank you..." I sat down against the bathroom door, trying to calm down and realizing that I really, really wanted Pete at that moment...not in a sexual way, I just...needed support. I put the 911 operator on speakerphone and pulled up my texts.  
 **'Call me as soon as you can.'** He'd texted.  
 **'I'm still on the line with the 911 operator, I put her on speaker so I could text you. I can hear the ambulance already.'** I stood up and got my bag, tossing a few of Sarina's things into it, carrying the phone with me.  
"Okay, the ambulance is there, can you go open the door for the EMTs?"  
"Yeah," I said, in a sort of eerily calm daze. I moved over to the door and unlocked it, propping it open and going back to sit by the door to the bathroom.  
 **'She's gonna be OK. This isn't your fault. Where are you?'**  
 **'I basically called her a whore. Kinda makes it my fault. We're in Riverdale, why?'**  
 **'I'm meeting you at the hospital. Which one's closest?'**  
"Are they there?" I looked up to see the EMTs coming through the door.  
"Yeah, they're here..."  
"Okay, I'm going to hang up now."  
"Kay." I felt the EMT moving me out of the way. They broke the door down and pulled her out of the tub.  
"Is she on any medications?" The EMT asked.  
"What?" I asked, looking up at him.  
"Is she on any medications?" He asked again.  
"Oh, um..." I got up and opened the medicine cabinet, rummaging, getting confused. "They're not in here..."  
"Two empty bottles in the bathroom," the other EMT said, taking them. "Let's get her on the bus."  
"I...c-can I come?" I asked. The EMT nodded.  
"Yeah, come on." They lifted up the backboard to carry her down the stairs, and I tried to keep close. Once we were on the ambulance, they kept asking me questions. I gave them what I could, then I remembered that I'd grabbed her wallet. I pulled it out and handed over her driver's license and social security card.  
"Do you know what she was taking the pills for?"  
I shook my head. "No, I...I think depression, I'm not sure though..." I pulled my phone back out.  
 **'Thecla, which one is closest?'**  
 **'Roseland. We're almost there. You don't have to come...'**  
 **'Nice try, but I'm coming.'**  
We got there and they made me wait in the waiting room while they dealt with her in the back. I called Pete.  
"I'm in the waiting room," I said softly. "They won't let me back..."  
"I'm on my way, but it's far. Why the hell do you live in Riverdale, do you want to get shot?"  
"I know you don't really understand this, but some of us have to take what we can afford," I snapped. He didn't say anything. "You shouldn't be on the phone while you're driving. Why are you even coming?"  
"Because."  
"Because why? I'm just some girl you slept with. Once. And then had a huge fight with."  
"You're more than that."  
"What does that even mean?"  
"I don't know. You're not the only one whoisn't sure what's going on between us, ok?"  
"Okay," I said softly.  
"Now, will you tell me what happened?"  
"I don't know. I got home a few hours ago and I picked a fight with her, and then...I don't know, they said something about empty bottles, and she was wet..."  
"Thecla, are you okay?"  
"Yeah...no...I...what do you mean? Of course I'm not okay..."  
"No, I mean...you sound...off..."  
"Of course I'm off, I've just killed my roommate..." I pulled my knees to my chest, beginning to cry.  
"You didn't kill her, Thecla. She's going to be fine, thanks to you."  
"She did it thanks to me."  
"That isn't true and you know it."  
I wiped my eyes. "What if she's not fine?"  
He sighed. "She will be."  
"You don't know that!"  
"Thecla, think. She had to turn the music on before she passed out, right? And you went out there right then, and you didn't wait around to call 911. She can't have been out that long."  
"They put a tube in her throat," I whispered.  
"Of course they did, she was unconscious. It's just to help her breathe. Standard procedure. Try to relax, okay? I'm almost there."  
"I can't relax. I...they...they gave me meds today...I took one, but it's not working..."  
"That's why you sound off. What is it?" I closed my eyes, thinking.  
"Something with a 'c', I don't remember..."  
"Clonazepam?"  
"Yeah, that's it," I whispered, laying my head back against the wall.  
"How much?"  
"What?"  
"Thecla, how much did you take?"  
"I only took one. She told me to take half, but I couldn't get it to break..."  
"Are you tired?"  
"Yes...and no..." I realized my leg was bouncing like crazy, even as I could feel myself starting to drift off.  
"That's why your memory's acting up. The shit fucks with your head, and it doesn't even help with bipolar, why the fuck did they give you that?"  
"I'm not bipolar...not everyone is you..."  
"Well why'd they give it to you?"  
"Anxiety. She gave me something else too..."  
"What's the other one?"  
"I dunno, I haven't looked at it. It's an anti-depressant." He sighed. "Why are you sighing for?" I asked him.  
"Why am I sighing for?" He asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice.  
"You have a bad habit of laughing at me, Mr. Wentz," I said, smiling a bit myself. "They probably think I'm high..."  
"You are, technically."  
"Nuh-uh..."  
"Yep."  
"This is what it feels like? Why do people do it, then? I feel stupid."  
"They do it to forget things."  
"Oh. Where are you?"  
"I'm not far, baby, I promise," he said softly.  
"Kay," I said softly. I guess I dozed off again, because the next thing I knew, he was shaking me gently awake. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. He smiled a bit and reached up to fix the eyeliner I'd just screwed all to hell.  
"Hey," he said softly.  
"Hey..." I swallowed tiredly.  
"Give me the pills, Thecla."  
"What?" I asked.  
"Give them here, I'll break them in half for you."  
"Um, no. You can do it when we're somewhere else," I said. He looked around.  
"Good point." I nodded.  
"See, I know how to keep myself out of trouble."  
"I still don't like you living out here, it's not safe. And what, it's you and Sarina and the other roommate, alone?"  
"We're fine, Pete," I said. "Please just drop it. I don't want to fight right now."  
He sighed. "Fine," he said, wrapping his arms around me. A doctor came out and looked around.  
"Sarina Logdon?" The doctor called. I stood up quickly and almost fell back down, but Pete caught me, sitting me back down gently. The doctor walked over to us. "Are you alright?" He asked me.  
"They started her on Klonopin today," Pete explained. "They don't have the dose quite right yet..."  
The doctor nodded understandingly. "Right. We're moving Miss Logdon to a room for tonight, at least. We've pumped her stomach, and she's breathing on her own, but we gave her something to help her sleep. Obviously, with this kind of situation, we're concerned about sending her home...has she ever tried anything like this before?'  
"No, not since I moved in, maybe before though, I'm not sure," I said softly. "I...I picked a fight with her earlier, but...that happens a lot," I said, looking confused and ashamed. "I...I don't know what was different this time..."  
 The doctor nodded. "Okay, well, they're moving her now and we're trying to get up with her doctor. Do you have any idea how to get up with the doctor?"  
"Yes!" I said, a little too excitedly. "Um, sorry, yeah, I have her emergency number." I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the recent calls. "Shit, man, how many times did you call me?" I blushed. "Sorry," I told the doctor, who shook his head to excuse it. I read off the number and he nodded.  
"Thanks, that should help. I'll have a nurse let you guys know as soon as we have a room number."  
I nodded. "Okay."  
The doctor walked away and Pete pulled me into his lap. I took a deep breath, resting my head on his shoulder.  
"We still have to talk," I said.  
"I know," he said. "For now, rest. What time are you supposed to take the other one?"  
I shrugged. "She said to pick a time and stick to it. What time is it?" I felt him check his phone.  
"Almost five," he said. "You should go ahead and take it."  
I nodded and leaned over, pulling the pill bottle out of my bag, along with the bottle of water I'd bought earlier, taking one of the little pills, reading the bottle for the first time, then handed it to him, laying my head on his shoulder. He read it and shook his head, then put it back in my bag.  
"What?" I asked.  
"Nothing," he said, shaking his head again.  
"It isn't nothing."  
"I haven't known you long enough to really know what's going on with you," he said, "but I really think you're manic-depressive. You seemed pretty manic last night, and when we were fighting earlier. If you are, then neither one of those meds are going to work."  
"We have a tendency to see ourselves in other people," I said groggily. He smiled down at me.  
"I'm aware. I hope I am wrong," he said, then kissed my head. "Rest, now. I'll wake you when they come tell us a room number." 


	3. Grand Theft Autumn

  


_Where is your boy tonight? I hope he is a gentleman._

When I woke again, we were in a hospital room and I was still in Pete's lap. I sat up a bit, rubbing my eyes. Fuck the eyeliner, I didn't care anymore. The fog of the meds had finally worn off, and I got up to go sit on the edge of Sarina's bed, taking her hand gently.  
 _I'm horrible. How could I say that to her? How could I be such a bitch?! She's done so much for me, helped me so much, and this is what she gets for it. She should've given up on me a long time ago and she'd be out doing wonderful things, being happy, not lying here in this bed after almost dying._ I looked down at her hand as the tears began to flow silently. _Fine, that's fine, I'll just have to make it up to her now. What does she need? Nothing, she's asleep, you fucking idiot. Okay, so what does she want? Probably to not be living with someone who picks fights on a regular basis. And Andy. She's wanted him for...forever, or damn near it._  
I looked over at Pete. Seeing the tears, he immediately moved to come over, but I shook my head, letting go of Sarina's hand and going to sit in his lap, my arms around his neck.  
"I have an enormous, totally inappropriate favor to ask of you," I whispered softly.  
"What's that?" He asked, looking down at me.  
"Can you come up with some completely casual and unassuming excuse for Andy to come hang out here until she wakes up? It'd make her, like, life, as long as nobody let on he was here to see her..."  
Pete smiled. "I'll try. But I'm serious...this is not your fault."  
"I'm not going to fight with you. I don't want to do it and I don't have the energy for it."  
He chuckled. "The meds should've worn off by now."  
"They have, the fog's gone, but now I feel like shit and what I said to her...it just keeps playing over and over and over in my head..."  
He sighed. "Well, what did you say?"  
I swallowed. "I came home and she was playing that song, and I was mad and I told her to turn it off and she wouldn't, so I said 'how insensitive can you fucking be? Not all of us make a habit of sleeping with any guy that will have us'..." I sighed, putting my head in my hands. He didn't say anything for a moment.  
"You know, that really isn't too bad. I mean, I've said things much worse to all of the guys, especially Patrick..."  
"It's horrible! I called her a whore, which she's not, but it isn't like that's the first time she's heard it. It's like, here, be my friend, trust me with your secrets and your biggest insecurities so I can use them against you whenever I damn well see fit."  
"It's done, baby, there's no use beating yourself up over it. She's gonna be fine, the two of you can work it out later."  
I blushed. "You...you called me baby..."  
He smiled. "I called you baby earlier."  
"What? Nuh-uh..."  
"Yep."  
"When?"  
"When we were on the phone, on my way here."  
I groaned and pulled my bag up into my lap, digging through it. I found the clonazepam and handed them to him. "Take the damn things, I don't want them."  
He sighed. "Why don't you try a half before you decide that, hm?"  
"No, I don't want them. I only got them because I got so frantic today and I got scared."  
He shook his head. "I'll hold them if it'll make you more comfortable, but you need to try the lower dose if you get...anxious...again, okay?"  
I nodded. "Okay, fine. If I get anxious enough that I can't handle it, I'll try a half."  
"Thank you," he said, putting the bottle in his jacket pocket. I lay my head on his shoulder.  
"So, talking," I prompted. "What exactly do you want from me, Mr. Wentz?"  
"A chance," he said simply. "Whatever this is between us, it's strong...I mean, I never do _that_ when I have Bronx. Ever, but I couldn't help it with you. So, yeah, it's strong, and I think we owe it to ourselves and to each other to see what does or doesn't come out of it..."  
I sat up, looking at him, swallowing. "And how do you intend to do that from different states, exactly?"  
He shrugged. "First off, I extended my trip to Chicago for another month. A lot can happen in a month. I say we worry about LA when it gets closer."  
I thought for a moment, then nodded. "I think that sounds like a very mature way to handle it."  
He smiled and kissed me gently. I smiled into the kiss, then pulled away when I heard a gentle knock on the door. I looked over and blushed, waving at Andy. I turned back to Pete and hugged him. "Thank you," I whispered. He kissed my cheek, then took the greasy bag from Andy with a grin. I shook my head, laughing a bit.  
"You promised me a month, Mr. Wentz. You're not allowed to have a coronary before then," I teased. He grinned at me and scooped up a forkful of the most delicious looking chili cheese fries, keeping eye contact as he took the bite. I bit my lip. _God, when was the last time I ate something like that? It's been at least a year..._ I blushed, looking over at Andy. "I'm Thecla," I said, smiling a bit and holding my hand out to him. He shook my hand, nodding.  
"Andy."  
I smiled. "Yeah, I know. I'm kinda wondering if Pete has any friends that I won't recognize on sight."  
"Wait, this one actually, ya know, _enjoys_ your life's work?" He asked Pete, shocked. I giggled at the glare Pete shot back at him.  
"Kinda religiously, actually. So she was really as...off...as we all speculated?" I asked.  
Andy nodded. "My God at the clothes the woman has. It's insane. Who needs that many clothes?! She tried so hard, though, poor thing." I laughed along with Andy.  
"Can we not, guys?" He asked. "I do have a kid with her."  
I looked over at Pete. "Does it really bother you?"  
"Yes, and he knows it does."  
"Then I'll keep it to myself. I've managed it all these years. Like it or not, Pete, I'm still a fangirl at heart."  
"And oh, how the fangirls despise Ashlee," Andy added in.  
"We can't help it," I said, lying my head on Pete's shoulder again, playing in his hair a bit. "We're a jealous breed."  
"I don't get how you all managed to be jealous of my wife when you'd never met me."  
I grinned. "I'll explain it to you later," I said. Andy laughed, and Pete raised an eyebrow.  
"Is that a promise?" He asked.  
"Are you making innuendos in the middle of a hospital room? Seriously?" I asked.  
"Maybe...how do you feel about it?"  
"Highly inappropriately, actually," I said, blushing and giggling.  
"So, uh, what happened, then?" He asked, gesturing towards the bed.  
"We don't know," Pete said before I could answer. Andy looked at me knowingly.  
"Friends tend to blame themselves," he said. "It'll pass, I promise. You'll find out whatever it is that was the real trigger, and you'll blame yourself for not noticing she was upset about that, and then you'll move past the blame altogether. Takes time, but it happens."  
I smiled a bit and cuddled into Pete more, yawning.  
"Tired?" He asked.  
I nodded. "Yeah," I said softly, closing my eyes again, just for a minute, and I was out again...sort of. I was more trapped, somewhere between sleep and waking. I could hear them talking, as if they were in the next room or something.  
"She's asleep?" Andy asked. I felt Pete nod. "Her foot's going crazy..."  
"I know," he said, sighing, burying his face in my hair for a moment. "You see it too, then? She's coming down..."  
"Of course I see it, anyone could see it..."  
"She doesn't believe me."  
"Wait...she's not diagnosed?" Pete shook his head. "So she's untreated?" He nodded. "And you think this is a good idea why?"  
"I don't think this is a good idea, I think this is inevitable. There's this...pull, I can't explain it, and I can't fight it. And she is on meds, they just aren't the right ones...she'll get it all sorted..."  
"You'll tell us if you get bad again?"  
"Swear to God," he said. Andy sighed.  
"You always say that..."  
"I will this time."  
And then I couldn't hear them at all.

When I woke again, Pete was tracing circles on my back and playing some game on his phone. I sat up, actually feeling rested, and stretched a bit.  
"No, I mean, the way she was acting, I didn't think she'd ever see him again," Sarina said.  
Andy shrugged. "Well, I'm glad she did. The guys suck at poker."  
Sarina grinned, blushing. Andy was perched on her bedside, playing cards with her.  
"Shit, Sarina!" I said, flying out of Pete's lap to hug her neck. "I swear to God, you almost gave me a fucking heart attack..."  
Andy glanced over at Pete, who shrugged. What the hell did Andy expect him to do about it?  
Sarina smiled. "I'm sorry, sweetie, I don't know what I was thinking..."  
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean what I said...I was just mad at myself and..."  
"Hush, now. If I got this stupid every time you got into one of your moods, I'd have killed most of Chicago by now." I blushed, smiling. "Now shoo, while I'm winning."  
I laughed a bit. Only Sarina could be laying in a hospital bed, no makeup, hair a mess, after a suicide attempt, and be having zero trouble flirting with a rock star. I shook my head and left the two alone, going to climb back in Pete's lap, my leg bouncing.  
"What time is it?"  
"Almost eleven in the morning," he said, putting his phone away. "Why don't we go downstairs and grab some food at the cafeteria?" He suggested and I jumped at the chance to move.  
"Sounds perfect," I said, grinning, standing up. He stood as well and pulled me to his side.  
"You two hungry?" He asked.  
"I'm fine," they said in unison. I grinned as we left them be. I wrapped my arms around his waist as we walked, which was kind of an awkward way to walk, I guess, but I didn't notice. I bounced on my feet while we waited for the elevator.  
"Did you sleep any?" I asked, looking up at him. He shook his head.  
"Nope."  
"Tired?"  
"Not a bit." I gave him a sympathetic smile and jumped a bit when the elevator dinged. He pulled me inside and leaned against the wall, pulling me back against him and kissing my neck. "You need to calm down, baby," he whispered against my neck. I shivered a bit, moving against him.  
"And how am I supposed to do that when you're doing this?" I asked, turning to wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. He pushed me against the wall and I moaned softly into the kiss. He pulled away, breaking all contact, and my breathing was already getting ragged.  
"Sorry," he said.  
"I'm not complaining." He shook his head, grinning as the elevator dinged again and opened into the cafeteria. He pulled me close to his side.  
"What do you want to eat, baby?" He asked, kissing my head. I shrugged as we stood in line, waiting. He had his arms draped over my shoulders and we were both rocking back and forth a bit.  
"I don't know, and people are slow," I complained quietly, then giggled. "And that rhymed."  
He chuckled. "I'll let Patrick know he's out of a job." I looked up at him and stuck my tongue out. He leaned down to kiss my nose. I gigged. Some guy ran up to us, and he really looked like he based every fashion choice he'd ever made on Pete.  
"Dude, I...you're..." He seemed totally starstruck. I couldn't help but giggle a bit. _Did I look like that on the doorstep?_ "Oh, sorry, I uh...I didn't mean to interrupt, I just...I...this is way out of line, but...my little sister, she's 13 and she absolutely loves you...would you...ya know, consider...coming to see her? After your lunch, I mean..."  
"Awww, is she in the hospital?" I asked.  
He nodded. "Y-Yeah..." He looked down. This kid couldn't be more than 15 or 16 himself. "She has been for a while...I got her tickets to a show, but uh...we...we're not sure if..." He looked at his feet, trailing off. I couldn't help but hug this kid.  
"It's gonna be okay," I told him, as I hugged his neck and he turned bright red. I let go of him and looked up at Pete. "I'm not really hungry, now I think about it," I said.  
Pete smiled. "Me neither, I just got tired of sitting there."  
"Me too," I said, blushing. The kid looked between us.  
"Lead the way," he told the kid, who smiled and gladly led us back to the elevators. Once we were in the elevator, he started talking again.  
"She's read your book like a million times. The meds they have her on, they fuck with her head sometimes, give her weird dreams and nightmares...I guess she kinda relates to it. She's gonna be so excited."  
I could feel Pete's energy shifting and I took his hand, squeezing it gently and offering him a reassuring smile. When the elevator doors opened again, it felt like I was being attacked, somehow, and I immediately felt like total shit, but I can't explain it any more than that. **Pediatric Oncology** was written on the wall across from the elevator. I choked back tears. _Don't even, you're the one who was so excited about helping this kid._ I took a shaky breath and reached into Pete's jacket pocket, taking out the pill bottle and taking a half - he'd apparently halved all of them when I was sleeping - before slipping it back into his pocket. He rubbed my back as we followed the kid down the hall. So many of these kids perked up when they saw him, a shudder of excitement going through the hall. I couldn't help but smile a bit at how much of an affect he had on them, just by being there. I could definitely relate. The kid knocked on the door to a room at the end.  
"Sis? I brought someone to see you," he said gently.  
"Not now, Luca, I'm tired," came a weak voice.  
"I'm telling you, Lily, you don't want to turn this one away."  
Pete was shaking. I brought his knuckles to my lips.  
"I...do you want one? Would...would it help?" I asked him.  
He shook his head. "No, I'm ok." I nodded a bit.  
"Fine, Luca, who is it?" The girl asked her older brother, and Luca ushered us in. Lily was pale as a sheet, her head completely bald. She was hooked up to all sorts of monitors and machines, and her eyes looked too big for her face _before_ she widened them in shock. She wore a Fall Out Boy shirt that hung from her feeble frame, and the curtains were drawn to keep the sun out. Luca peeked behind them and saw that it had begun to rain.  
"Lily, do you want the curtains open?" He asked, and his sister just nodded. I clutched Pete's arm, trying not to look as sorry for this girl as I felt. I felt Pete steady himself and move to sit in the chair by the bed, launching into conversation with the girl like he'd known her forever. I sat in a chair beside his, unable to hide my adoration at his ability to be so...compassionate, in a way I knew I never could. _There's a fundamental difference between me and him...all I can see is sickness, and he barely seems to notice it._  
"So, how did you two meet?" Lily asked, turning to me.  
I turned towards her a bit more, blushing. "Oh, um...I work at Bronx's daycare," I said.  
The girl grinned. "And you're a faaaaaan," she said, smiling brighter when I blushed more. "What's your name?"  
"Thecla," I said, smiling a bit.  
Her eyes got wide. "No way! That's so weird!" She said, leaning over the bed to pull out an old, tattered notebook. "Here, I've been working on this for a while," she said, holding it out to me.  
"I...I couldn't..."  
"No, really. Please," she said. "Nobody's read it before. I'd like _somebody_ to read it, and Luca refuses." I smiled, taking it gently.  
"Okay," I said, opening the front cover to glance over it quickly. Fanfiction. _God, all the fanfiction I wrote...totally inappropriate things for a 13 year old to be thinking about a 24 year old._ I blushed and Pete narrowed his eyes.  
"Remind you of something?" He asked me.  
"Oh trust me, darling, you will never, ever know." Lily giggled, and it was infectious. Soon I was giggling too.  
"So are you guys, like, together now?"  
"Yeah," Pete said. "But you can't tell anyone. It's a huge secret. Thecla doesn't want to get swamped with paparazzi."  
"Oh, that's going to be unavoidable and you know it," she scolded me. "But I'll keep it a secret, I promise." I smiled. Before long, most of the other patients from the ward had crowded into the room, along with a few siblings and parents. Pete was talking to all of them, signing things. One boy came up to him, probably about 16, bald as well. It was obvious he was trying - and failing - to be macho as he got his iPod signed.  
"I'm gonna have hair like yours one day," he told Pete. His mom tensed, and it was obvious that even this woman had lost hope, though she kept it pretty well hidden from her son.  
"It's a hassle, really," he said. "I've been meaning to get rid of it." He turned to me. "You wanna do it, Thecla?" He asked me, grinning and winking.  
I smiled. "I'm terrible with a blade, trust me," I said, then blushed. How ridiculously dark, and yet the kids...laughed. Pete looked up at a nurse.  
"Got some clippers?" He asked her. She smiled and nodded, leaving to go get them. The boy's eyes went wide.  
"No way."  
"Dude, it's just hair," he said. "That's not what matters, and I'll prove it to you." The nurse came back with the clippers and handed them to Pete. He flipped them on and handed them to the boy. "Go on."  
The kid hesitated, but then did it. The room was dead silent except for the buzzing of the clippers. Finally, the kid stopped.  
"Did you get it all?" Pete asked, rubbing his head to make sure, grinning. Completely smooth. He turned to me and smirked. "Still love me?" He asked. I blushed brightly and threw my arms around his neck, kissing him. He pulled me into his lap, smiling. "See?" He asked the kid. "And whoever she is, she'll figure it out too," he said quietly, knowingly. The kid blushed, but grinned.  
"Okay," the nurse said. "The doctors will be rounding soon. Just a few more minutes. Mind if we get some pictures, Mr. Wentz?" She asked him.  
"Oh jeez, way to make me feel old. No, I don't mind," he said, grinning. I got out of his lap to sit on the bed by Lily.  
"What's your tattoo?" She asked me in a whisper as the other kids took turns taking pictures with Pete.  
I automatically pulled my shirt down more, blushing. "That's an even bigger secret," I told her, then whispered what the tattoo was in her ear.  
"And he doesn't know yet?!" She asked. I shook my head, smiling, and we started giggling again. "I wanna be like you one day," she said softly.  
"I...sweetie, no you don't," I told her. "Be you, nobody can beat that. And fangirl to fangirl, he's mine, so don't even try it." I said, smiling. She laughed.  
"What am I missing?" He asked, and I looked up, realizing the other kids had gone back to their own rooms.  
"Nothing," I said quickly. "Right Lily?"  
"Yep," she said, nodding, "not a thing."  
"Do you want a picture, Lily?" The nurse asked her.  
"Two," she said. "One with just Pete, so I can go ahead and post it, and one with both of them, so I can vouch for her on the forums. Fangirls are vicious, vicious people."  
I smiled. "Trust me, Lily, I gave pretty good when I was younger." Lily smiled.  
"Still," she said. We took the pictures with her.  
"Rest now, Lily," the nurse said. We said goodbye to her and to Luca and headed back to the elevator. I looked up at him, touching his head.  
"Sorry, I know you liked it..."  
I shook my head. "It'll grow back. That was absolutely the sweetest thing I have ever seen in my life," I said, kissing him. He pulled me close, kissing me back until the elevator dinged for Sarina's floor. When we walked into the room, Andy saw Pete and spit his coke everywhere, choking.  
"What the fuck did you do to your head?" He asked him, coughing.  
I smiled and sat on the bed, pulling up the video I'd snuck with my phone, the whole conversation between him and the kid, and the haircut.  
"God, you got that on video? You're going to ruin my bad boy image, you know that?" He asked me, smiling. I grinned.  
"You have GOT to forward that to Kelsey," Andy said. "Our publicist," he clarified. I nodded a bit and forwarded it to Pete.  
"There, now you can do what you want with it," I told him, kissing him once, gently.  
I looked over at Sarina, who was crying from the video.  
"Aw, don't cry," I told her. "How are you feeling?"  
"Ungrateful," she said, wiping her eyes.  
"Uh-uh, no ma'am. We don't compare trials, remember? Our cardinal rule."  
She sighed, hugging me. "I'll be fine," she said. "I, uh...Andy offered to stay tonight, if you guys want to go back to the apartment? Spock and Pepe need to be fed."  
I raised an eyebrow and looked up at Pete, who shrugged. "You'll call if you need anything?" I asked.  
"Of course," she said.  
"Do you want us to bring you a change of clothes back tonight?"  
"Nah, it's fine, just bring them whenever you guys decide to head back over in the morning. You know, after the sun's up. When normal people are awake. 12:01 doesn't count. Got it?"  
"Understood," I said, laughing.

Later that night, Pete and I were sitting on my couch eating sushi. He kept rubbing his head.  
"Why do I feel like I'm going to regret this?" He asked. I sighed and took his plate, setting both of them on the table and straddling him, wrapping my arms around his neck to rub his head from behind.  
"Pete, I can honestly say that you are the only man I have ever lusted after," I said, blushing, "and you are sexier tonight than you have ever been. To quote an amazing man...'Dude, it's just hair'."  
He grinned and kissed me deeply. I moaned into the kiss and pushed his shirt up over his head, pulling mine off as well. He unhooked my bra expertly, and I moved so it slid off, tossing it aside. I squealed as he picked me up, carrying me back to my room and dropping me on the bed. I propped up on my elbows and watched him peel out of his pants, biting my lip until I felt the metallic tinge of blood. He growled and kissed me deeply, pushing me back to the bed. He stood and yanked my skinnies off, climbing on top of me and kissing me roughly. I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He didn't hesitate this time, didn't take it slow. He slammed his cock into me, and I arched, moaning loudly. He pounded my pussy at a brutal pace, and all I could do was writhe and moan beneath him, digging my nails into his back and trying to meet all of his thrusts. The feeling low in my stomach was building twice as fast as before, and he bit down on my neck. My muscles tightened around him and I screamed his name, feeling his seed shoot into me. He groaned and pulled out. My poor innocent self though he was done, but he didn't let me think that for long. He untangled me from him, flipping me onto my stomach and pulling me to my hands and knees, gripping my hair tightly. He pulled and my head rolled back as I felt his cock fill me suddenly once more. I moaned his name again, and he leaned down, his chest pressing against my back as he continued to pound me.  
"You're mine, got it?" He growled against my ear. I moaned louder.  
"Y-Yes, p-please," I gasped out. "F-Finally..." I could feel myself getting close to the edge again. He sat back up, slamming in and out of me, gripping my hips tightly. He pressed his thumbs into the tattoo on my lower back and I arched again, throwing my head back as far as I could. "Oh, FUCK, Pete!" I screamed.  
He growled and pulled out, pulling me around by my hair so that I was facing him, still on my hands and knees. "Open," he ordered, and I did, locking my eyes with his. He held my hair tightly so I couldn't move my head, thrusting all the way into my mouth three times before I felt the liquid hit the back of my throat, sliding down, and I moaned around him. He grinned and collapsed onto my pillows, but I didn't move from where he'd placed me until he yanked my arm. I smiled and cuddled into his side. He lay in silence for a moment, one hand behind his head and the other running over my tattoo.  
"You got it when you were sixteen?" He asked.  
"Y-Yes," I stammered.  
"Why?"  
I blushed. "I...It was stupid, really, and yet now..." I shook my head a bit. "I'd convinced myself I'd be yours one day, and I figured I'd go ahead and...mark myself for it." I mumbled. He grinned down at me. "It's poorly done...I got it for free..." I added.  
"Yes," he said. "But it's very obviously the bat. _My_ bat. We'll get it touched up." I blushed and he lifted my chin, kissing me deeply. I moaned softly into it and he smacked my ass sharply. I squeaked. "It's almost 2 am," he said. "Bedtime."  
"I'm too wired to sleep," I said, blushing and pouting.  
 He looked down at me. "Me too. Wanna know a secret?" He asked, and I nodded. "Get my jacket." I pulled myself away from him and out of the room to grab his jacket from the living room, slipping it on and coming back. He grinned when he saw me, and I straddled him. He shook his head, taking the clonazepam from the pocket. He opened the bottle and handed me three of the little halves. "If you're not out in an hour, I'll give you another half." I looked down at them, then at him. He'd been doing this for ages, and I trusted him more than anyone. Besides, it wasn't that much more than I'd been taking. I tossed them back, grabbing the bottled water from my bedside table and taking a swig, holding it out to him. He grinned and took some of the halves as well, taking a swallow of the water. I pulled his jacket off and tossed it aside, cuddling into his side, skin to skin. Within half an hour, I was in the deepest sleep I'd had...ever.


	4. The Take Over, The Breaks Over

_Baby, seasons change but people don't._

I woke up, sitting up and stretching. He groaned a bit and I bent down to peck his lips.  
"Go back to sleep," I whispered before getting out of the bed. I pulled his jacket back over my head and forced a brush through my matted hair before walking into the kitchen. I poured myself an orange juice and looked at the clock - almost 1:00 in the afternoon. We'd both slept through the night, I think. I had, at least. I felt amazingly well rested, my mind completely clear. I smiled a bit and padded into the bathroom to shower, when I noticed the broken door and my good mood was ruined. I sighed and turned around, going back to the kitchen. I pulled my hair up into a sloppy bun and set to work on breakfast - homemade biscuits, grits, eggs, and bacon. _Man, I miss deer sausage..._ I giggled as the thought ran through my head. Pete was definitely not going to be bringing home any deer meat. I felt his arms snake around my waist and his face against my neck.  
"What's so funny?" He asked, and I could feel his sloppy grin.  
"I was just thinking that you're not really the type to bring home any wild game," I said, giggling again.  
"Ew, why would I do that?"  
"Because the meat is exquisite," I said simply, putting his eggs in a bowl and pulling the biscuits from the oven, buttering the tops, turning them out of the cast iron skillet and onto a plate, and buttering the bottoms.  
Pete looked over the food. "What is that?" He asked, pointing to the pot of white, creamy, grainy stuff still sitting on the stove.  
"Grits," I said, laughing a bit. I grabbed my bowl and slid two eggs into it from the pan, spooning grits on top of them. "Coffee?" I offered him. He leaned over the stove, playing in the pot of grits a bit, nodding.  
"Grits." He said simply.  
"Yeah, grits. Ground corn with lots of butter and milk." I grabbed a cereal spoon and scooped some out of the pot, feeding them to him. His eyes lit up and I grinned, carrying a plate with biscuits and sausage to the table. I poured his coffee and set it down at the table, then carried my orange juice and bowl over as well, sitting down. He walked over and sat down, looking over the spread.  
"Okay, what's that?" He asked, pointing to a few jars that were sitting on the table.  
"Blackberry jelly and apple butter."  
"What the hell is apple butter?"  
I giggled again. "Just try it," I said. "I can't really describe it. Made them myself, though."  
"How do you make jelly?" He asked.  
"If I told you how I make jelly, every woman in my family would track me down to strangle me. Secret family recipe."  
"Okay, okay, but..." He seemed in utter shock.  
"I can't believe you've never heard of someone making homemade jelly."  
"But don't you need, like, a factory?"  
I laughed again. "Oh, you poor Yankee..."  
He looked confused. "I hate baseball..."  
I giggled, shaking my head. "Bless your heart," I said. He gave up and tentatively tried some of the apple butter on his biscuit, grinning and slathering it on properly after he tasted it. I smiled, eating and watching him. By the time we finished breakfast and I'd washed the dishes, it was almost 3:00.  
"We should probably shower," he said. I tensed. "What?" He asked.  
I shook my head. "The door's still broken," I whispered after a moment. He sighed and pulled me close, and I began to cry into his chest. Only then did I realize I hadn't really cried about it yet. I'd almost lost my best friend, and I hadn't cried about it.  
"Shhh, it's okay, let it out," he whispered, rubbing my back. "You've got to let it out." After I'd stopped crying, he kissed my head. "Go get dressed, I'll call Andy and let him know we're coming."  
I nodded and went to pull some clothes on, fixing my makeup, then went to Sarina's room to pack her a bag. As I was trying to pick out the clean clothes from the dirty ones, I stumbled across a print out from the doctor's office.

>   
> **Patient Name:** Sarina Logdon  
>  **DOB:** 11/30/1989  
>  **Appointment Date:** 03/14/2014  
>  **Chart Number:** 920482  
>  **Diagnosis:** Spontaneous Abortion  
>  **Instructions:** Resume all medications immediately. Schedule emergency appointment with Dr. Adams.

I paled, staring at the print out. Sarina was pregnant? Sarina had a miscarriage? Why didn't she tell me? I looked at the note again. 3/14...that was Friday...that was...the night I met Pete.  
"Thecla?" He called.  
I jumped, putting the print out back where I'd found it. "Coming!" I called, grabbing random clothes and throwing them into the bag before walking back out, closing her door.  
"What's wrong?" He asked immediately.  
"Nothing," I said. "Ready?"  
He nodded and we went back to the hospital.  
"Thecla, what the hell?" Sarina asked, pulling the clothes out of the bag. Three nicer tops, a pair of pajama shorts, two bras, no panties. I swallowed.  
"Can I talk to you...alone...for a second?" I asked her.  
Andy got up and dragged Pete out of the room, closing the door.  
"Thecla, what is going on?!" Sarina asked.  
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked softly.  
"Tell you what?!"  
"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant? Why didn't you tell me to come the fuck home that night?"  
"I don't want to talk about this," she said, shutting down. "Bring the guys back in."  
"Fine, Sarina," I said. "We won't talk about it. But nobody can handle that kind of stuff on their own. Nobody. Stop trying to be so damn strong and lean on the people who give a shit."  
Sarina began to cry and I sat down, pulling her into my arms.  
"My baby," she sobbed. I couldn't help but cry softly as well.  
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry, Sarina..."  
About fifteen minutes later, I walked out into the hallway. "She's resting," I told the guys, "but you can go back in, if you want. I think I'm gonna go see Lily..."  
Pete nodded and kissed my head, then went back in with Andy so I could have some space.  
I walked over to the elevator and pressed the button. Surprisingly, the door opened immediately.  
I was in a sort of daze as I rode up to the Pediatric Oncology floor, thinking about Sarina and the baby she'd lost, and paling. Pete and I hadn't used...anything.  
I stopped and looked around the room I was in, confused. It was empty. I stepped back out into the hall, looking around to make sure I was in the right room. The nurse from the day before, the one who'd brought Pete the clippers, saw me and the look on her face said it all. I dropped to my knees, beginning to sob. She came over and helped me to one of the waiting rooms. I pulled my knees to my chest, sobbing into them.  
I don't know how long I hand been like that when I felt his arms around me. I wasn't crying anymore, I'd run out of tears. I looked up into his eyes.  
"L-Lily, sh-she..."  
"I know," he whispered. "The nurse told me...it wasn't long after we left yesterday...she was asleep when it happened."  
I slid my knees down and moved into his lap. "How's Sarina?" I asked him, not wanting to think about Lily anymore.  
"She's awake, her and Andy are talking..."  
"Did she tell you guys what happened?" I asked him softly. Now that I thought about it, I didn't really want to talk about Sarina either.  
"No," he said. "Will you?"  
"It isn't mine to tell." I thought for a moment, looking for a happier topic. "How's Bronx?" I asked.  
"He's good," he said, smiling. "He said he misses me, but not to come home because Miss Thecla needs me more, and he's a big boy and he's fine."  
I looked up at him, smiling. "Miss Thecla has a class tomorrow afternoon."  
"What class?"  
I blushed. "History of rock. It's a humanities credit."  
Pete grinned. "Can I sit in?"  
"How is you coming to class us flying under the radar?"  
He sighed. "Thecla..."  
"Peter," I said.  
"I don't want to fly under the radar. I want everyone to know you're mine."  
I blushed. "I...I'm yours? Like..." I blushed brighter.  
He grinned. "Isn't that what we said last night?"  
I blushed. "Can we go somewhere...less innocent...to talk about this?"  
He laughed and picked me up, carrying me to the elevators. He set me down, pulling me back against him and sending a quick text to Andy to let him know we were going out and we'd be back later.  
We were sitting on my bed again, facing each other, and I was blushing like mad, looking down at the bed.  
"You're the one who wanted to talk about this," he prompted.  
"Right, I um...I just...want to be sure we're both...on the same page. I...what do you mean when you say I'm yours?" I asked him.  
Pete grinned. "What do you want it to mean?" He asked.  
I blushed brighter. If I was going to lose him, it was better to do it now, right? I grabbed my laptop from my bag and opened it up.  
"What're you doing?" He asked.  
"I'm pulling up something I wrote a long, long time ago. When I was way too young to know such things, yet somehow did."  
He raised an eyebrow and moved to lean against my pillow, pulling me back against him so that I was between his legs. I clicked on the folder labeled FOBFF and it prompted for a password. I quickly typed a long password, and it opened up. I clicked on a file and was prompted to enter another password. I did, this one different from the last.  
"Damn," he said. "You really don't want anyone reading this, do you?"  
"I want you to read it," I said. "I mean, I do now...that way I don't have to...vocalize it."  
"How long is it?" He asked, looking down at me.  
"Not long. I mean, not for me. A few pages."  
He nodded and began to read the oneshot fanfic.

>   
>  My relationship with Pete Wentz was far from normal, though the tabloids didn't realize. We worked hard to keep our...persuasions...secret from almost everyone. Patrick, Joe, and Andy and their girls knew - they were of the same persuasions - but that was it. Not even Fall Out Boy's publicist knew - the guys felt it best that she didn't, and what the guys said, went. In fact, as far as most of the world knew, Pete was the only one of them who was seeing anyone.
> 
> He dropped me off at the little cafe, kissing me gently for the cameras before speeding off to rehearsal with the other guys. I find the paparazzi never bother me much unless he's there as well. Funny, really, since following me when we were apart would lead them to the scandal of the century. I walked into the small cafe, making my way to the table where three familiar girls sat. It was secluded in a corner, far enough away from other tables to prevent anyone from overhearing. All of the tables here were spaced farther apart like ours. While the menu could be considered casual, the cafe catered to only the biggest stars and politicians, who valued the place for it's privacy. Nobody approached a table without the patron giving permission through a nod or a wave of the hand, and interruptions were kept to the barest of minimums while still providing the exceptional service these people were used to. The girls met here once a month to discuss their relationships, and I'd managed to avoid it until now. Oh, we all saw each other from time to time - such things were inevitable - but we never acknowledged each other except for the occasional knowing smile. I was dreading this. These girls offend me, though they know not what they do. As I walked over, they all stood to hug and greet me.
> 
> "We're so glad you could make it this month," the redhead spoke up. She was Andy's, I knew.
> 
> "Yes, we were beginning to think you were avoiding us," a blond said. She was Joe's and a dainty cross hung from her neck. Not Jewish, apparently. His mother would have a cow. Of course, she'd have a cow about more than that if she found out about this girl.
> 
> "I don't know how you've been keeping to the NDA this long without this outlet," a raven-haired beauty added. She was Patrick's, younger than the other two, close to my age, maybe my age exactly. She didn't offend me, not like the others, but instead made me want to smack Patrick upside the head.
> 
> I blushed. "Pete and I don't have an NDA," I said. The girls gaped at me in shock. "We don't need one."
> 
> "But how does he know you won't say anything?!" The blond asked, appalled.
> 
> "Because he knows that I love him," I said. "I'd never do anything that could jeopardize his image or his career."
> 
> "So you haven't said anything?" The raven asked
> 
> I smiled softly at her. "No, of course not."
> 
> The conversation shifted the shopping as a waitress came over to fill our water glasses and take our orders.
> 
> "So," blond-bimbo-barbie said when the waitress had left, grinning. "Since you haven't come to one of our lunches before, we'll go ahead and do what we always do for newbies. Limits."
> 
> "We don't have limits either," I said, sipping my water to hide the grin I developed from watching barbie almost choke on her water.
> 
> "No limits?" The redhead asked.
> 
> "That's really the definition of a Submissive, is it not?" I asked simply.
> 
> "I don't understand your viewpoint," the redhead asked, inquisitive.
> 
> "Well," I said simply, "How can you be truly Submissive if you say no to something? I have no need to protect myself from Pete, and he has no need to protect himself from me. Pete's wants, needs, and desires are more important to me than my own."
> 
> "That's ridiculous," barbie spat.
> 
> "That's love," the raven said, her eyes lighting up. I smiled. I knew I liked something about her.
> 
> "Yes. And Pete loves me as well. He'd never do anything to jeopardize my health or safety. Let me ask you, what is a typical day like for you girls?"
> 
> "You mean when we're with them?" the raven asked, and I nodded.
> 
> "Well, I go to class 5 days a week. If Patrick want to see me on one of those nights, he'll text me and let me know by the time I get out. Then I take the back way to his house, let myself in, shower, change, and I'm waiting for him in the playroom by 6. We play, he goes to bed, I go home. If it isn't a week night, I stay in my room at his place, and then I do homework the next day except for meals, which I get from the housekeeper and serve to him, then go eat mine in my room. At night, we play again." She shrugged. "Pretty basic."
> 
> I looked to the redhead. "Lizzie has a very relaxed arrangement with Patrick," she said. "He texts her, she has a key to his place, and she has the luxury of being available to him every night. On Friday night, I get off of work and a car picks me up if Andy wants me, if not the car isn't there. If it is, I get in and the driver takes me to Andy's place. I'm on my knees on the doorstep when he opens the back door. Usually he'll take me right then in one way or another, then sends me up to the playroom and I wait for him there. We play, the car takes me home. It's the same for Cara," she said, and barbie Cara nodded.
> 
> "What about you?" Cara asked, and it somehow sounded like a challenge.
> 
> I smiled. "It depends. If Bronx is with us, he wakes me up early. We have our time together and I make breakfast and take him to school. The rest of the morning, I run whatever errands need to be run, and I'm home by noon to make lunch for Pete so it's ready or almost ready when he gets up. We eat and talk about life - usually Bronx, sometimes the band. We have a few hours before Bronx has to be picked up, and we get the rough stuff in then if Pete has time - if he doesn't, I do the cleaning or the laundry or nap. I shower and go pick up Bronx, and sometimes Pete comes too. We get home and Bronx and Pete have a few hours to themselves while I start dinner. Then Bronx sits at the counter and I help him with his homework while I finish cooking, and Pete goes off and works on music or the label or whatever other work-related thing he needs to get done. Dinner is at 6, and we all talk about Bronx's day. Bronx helps me with the dishes and then we all play a game together. He goes to bed at 9, so after the game Pete gets him bathed and Bronx reads a chapter of his book aloud to Pete before bed. We say goodnight, and then go to our room. We shower and change, if Bronx had any issues we talk about them and come up with a solution. We have sex - nothing too kinky since Bronx is home - and then we go to bed."
> 
> Lizzie was grinning, and Cara rolled her eyes.
> 
> "And when the brat isn't home?" She snapped.
> 
> "You're disgusting, you know that? You come when he calls, only do what you feel like, and let him shower you with shit you neither need nor deserve. You don't give a damn about him or what's important to him, you're there because you want to be and you'd walk without a second thought. You call yourself his Submissive when you know the essentially, you're nothing more than the average prostitute - only, they'd probably be more submissive than you are. You can't submit to someone you aren't in love with, Cara, because you have to put the other person ahead of yourself and you're too much of a bitch to do that. And if you ever, and I do mean EVER, say anything negative about Bronx again I will not hesitate to decapitate you with a spoon. Are we completely clear?"
> 
> Cara shoved her chair back, took her purse, and left, the redhead right behind her. I looked over at Lizzie, starting to calm down.
> 
> "You're right about them," she said softly. "I...I know I look like them, but I'm not. I mean, I am, I just..."
> 
> I smiled. "I know, I can see it when you talk about him. Do you want to know my opinion?" I asked her, and she nodded eagerly.
> 
> "Tell him how you feel. Tell him you want more. I mean, the man gave you a key to his house and his personal cell number. And if he says he doesn't feel anything...leave. Pete is very clearly my Master whenever we're alone. I cook and clean for him because I want to, not because he thinks I should. He wishes I'd let him pay someone to do it, but...it's my job. I don't trust anyone else to do it, because it has to be perfect for my boys. In my mind, Bronx is first and Pete is second. In his, Bronx is first and I'm second. If I asked to be his equal there, he'd be alright with that and I know it. Personally, though, I don't think it's a woman's place to tell a man what should happen in the bedroom any more that it is a man's place to do the laundry. It's an antiquated view of relationships, but it's what I want and it's what makes me happy, and everyone has a right to that. I mean, assuming your desires and what makes you happy don't infringe on someone else's rights, there's nothing wrong about them. I'd never judge a woman for wanting to be a man's equal, but that just isn't for me. I don't view myself as his equal in anything unless it involves Bronx. Pete values that, craves it, but he doesn't feel entitled to it, and neither should Patrick."
> 
> "W-What?" She asked "I...I could never leave him..."
> 
> "Lizzie, you're in love with the man. If he can't return that, then staying will only destroy you, and nobody wants to see that happen."
> 
> I pulled out a pen and a sheet of paper and wrote my number on it. "Text me, okay? There's no reason we can't be friends. Now, I'm sorry, but I have to go get Bronx from school, and get Cara into a world of shit for talking about my baby boy like that," I said, grinning. When I turned to leave, Pete was standing there grinning like a madman. I hugged him and he hugged me back, kissing me deeply. He took me home, and Pete and I didn't sleep all night.
> 
> My relationship with Pete Wentz was entirely unique, and I wouldn't have it any other way.  
> 

"This is what you want?" He asked, and I blushed, nodding. "You want no say in any of the relationship decisions?"  
"No," I said, blushing. "Or Bronx, right now. I mean in the story we'd already been together for a while...I...you _shouldn't_ trust my judgement with him, not yet. He's your son, not mine."  
He kissed me deeply. "I want to tell Bronx about us tonight," he said softly. "And I want to go to class with you tomorrow."  
"Okay," I said, smiling softly. He closed out of everything on the laptop and set it aside.  
"And right now, I want to take you to the tattoo shop and get your tattoo fixed," he said, grinning. "You'll be more comfortable in a dress."  
I stood and stripped, pulling on a babydoll-style sundress that wouldn't press against the tattoo. Pete pushed me forward against the wall, his hand sliding up my leg as he kissed my neck. I moaned, my head rolling to the side. He spun me around and pushed my panties down before lifting me. My panties fell off of my ankles and I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling him push into me. I moaned, rolling my head back. He pulled out and pushed back into me gently, kissing my neck.  
"Pete," I half-moaned, half-whined, and I felt him grin against my neck. He pulled out and thrusted back into me faster, rougher. I dug my nails into his back, moaning louder, and he groaned, reaching down to massage my clit as he pounded me steadily. Before long, my body tensed and my nails dug into his back deeper, and Pete bit me as we came hard together.  
I collapsed against him, burying my head in his neck.  
"I wanted you against a wall before we had your tattoo fixed," he said. I could hear the grin in his voice and it made me smile.  
"You're entitled to your things whenever, wherever, and however you want them, Mr. Wentz," I said softly against his neck. He growled softly and set me on my feet. My legs were a bit shaky, and I blushed as I pulled my panties back on. He grinned and pulled me to his side as we left the apartment.  
"Well, I don't like my things living where they might get stolen at any given moment," he said, looking around cautiously as he let me into the car. I sighed. This again. He closed my door and walked around, getting in the driver's seat. "You should let me and Andy rent you guys a place," he said. "It's not like we can't afford it."  
"Pete, we don't want to feel cheap."  
"How would that make you feel cheap?"  
"You mean us sleeping with you guys and you guys spending unusually large amounts of money on us?"  
"Isn't that what dating is, though?"  
"Not like this, Pete. Not for normal people. Flowers every now and then, that's as far as it goes for normal people. Not concert tickets and apartments."  
"The tickets are free," he said, frowning.  
"No, they aren't. If you sold them instead of giving them to us, you'd be making money. That counts."  
He sighed. "We're not normal people, Thecla, and this...this isn't a normal connection. I think you know that. Besides, what happened to 'yes, sir'?" He half-joked.  
I swallowed, looking down, taking a deep breath. "I'll talk to Sarina about it," she said. "Do you want me to move if she won't?"  
"I don't know," he said honestly.  
I nodded. "Can we please just get through the tattoo and talking to Bronx first?" I asked softly. He seemed to perk up at the mention of Bronx.  
"Yes," he said. "Of course we can."

We walked into the tattoo parlor and it was busy, but the artists looked up when the door opened and grinned when they saw Pete.  
"Hey, man," the owner said, walking over and shaking his hand.  
"Hey, Mike, this is Thecla," he said, wrapping his arm back around my waist. "She needs to have one fixed." The guy looked me over. In my sundress and sandles, my hair falling in waves, with no visible body modifications, I didn't look like I fit in with these people. I hadn't even bothered with makeup, which only helped make me look innocent and girly.  
"Alright, I'll do it myself," he said. "Sean!" He called, and his son came strolling out from the back. The kid couldn't be more than 16, and he already had more tattoos than I did. "I need you to man the counter," he said, and the kid looked at me, grinning and nodding.  
"Delicate area?" He asked, and I blushed. Pete's grip on me tightened and Mike slapped his son upside the back of the head.  
"No, an old friend."  
Sean seemed to register whose arm was around me and his eyes went wide. "Sorry, man, I, uh..."  
Pete shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Sean. I know your old man well enough to know you're not as big of an ass as that made you seem," he said as we followed Mike back to a room.  
"So how bad is it?" He asked me, and I blushed.  
"I um....I was sixteen, drunk, and the guy that did it didn't charge...it was supposed to be practice." I grimaced a bit.  
Pete shook his head, amused. "Mike did mine," he said, hopping up onto a filing cabinet. "Hell, Mike does all of mine. Show the man."  
I blushed and turned around, lifting the back of my dress up to show him, turning bright red. Pete laughed at me.  
"You let some idiot kid do that tattoo, and now you're blushing."  
"Alcohol," I offered in reply, and Pete just shook his head.  
"Maybe I should get you drunk, then."  
"You don't need to get me drunk," I shot back and realized we weren't alone, blushing again.  
"Pete got many a drunk tattoo when we were younger and stupid," Mike said. "Much worse than this one. Hop up," he said, getting his stuff prepped.  
I grinned and got into position. I signed a little paper swearing I was 18 and not pregnant, and Mike slid my dress up, laying a blanket over my legs.  
"See? Wouldn't trust anyone else with you," Pete said, moving onto a stool so he could sit up by my head. "Relax, you're gonna make it hurt worse," he said when he realized how tense I was. I took a deep breath and Pete took my hands, kissing me gently. At his touch I instantly calmed, and he pulled away to smile at me as Mike went to work fixing the tattoo.  
"How're you doing?" Mike asked me after a few minutes.  
"Good," I said softly. "This is nothing compared to what it felt like the first time."  
"Yeah, kids tend to be heavy handed," he said. "Especially when they get anywhere near a woman's more...personal...areas."  
I blushed.  
"Its gonna hurt when he gets to the spine," Pete said, playing in my hair a bit. I nodded, closing my eyes for a moment. "What're you going to tell Bronx?" I asked him softly.  
"You mean what are we going to tell Bronx? What do you want to tell him?"  
"I don't know. I'm not a parent and I've never been in a relationship before. I don't think you could ask someone less experienced here."  
"What happened to your developmental psych knowledge?" He teased.  
"Yeah, they don't really cover this," I said. "Mike, what would you tell Sean?"  
"I'd tell him to keep my girlfriend out of his perverted little head," he said honestly. "But he's 15, not 5. I say be honest with him as much as you think is appropriate. You could always go with "daddy's new friend" but I think there's gonna be too much spotlight for all of that. He's a smart kid and it's been a while since Miss Can't-Sit-Still, he can handle the truth."  
"You tattooed her?" I asked, opening my eyes now, unable to stop the pang of jealousy.  
"No, I tried to tattoo her. The instant I started she jumped out of the chair. She pretty much has a small, bright pink line on her thigh. Not my best work, but definitely my funniest."  
I smiled a bit. "Not big into pain?" I asked Pete and he grinned.  
"Couldn't stand it," he said. "I tried to tell her." He shrugged. I smiled a bit, and decided to change the subject before I got mean.  
"How does it look?" I asked Pete.  
"It's looking good," he said, nodding. "Much better than before."  
Mike got to my spine and I inhaled sharply but didn't move. Pete looked at me with this...look.  
"What?" I asked.  
"Nothing," he said, shaking his head.  
"That's not a nothing face."  
"You're exactly right. I'll tell you later, now drop it," he said.  
I pouted, but didn't say anything else. About 20 minutes later, Mike was done.  
"Sure you don't want another one?" He asked me, smiling. "You're a pleasure to work on," he said.  
I blushed. "Not right now, no. Maybe one day."  
"Alright, well. You'll have to come back and see me, either way." Mike said, hugging me. I smiled and hugged him back. He shook Pete's hand, and we left. I sat down in the car and bit my lip, leaning forward a bit. Pete chuckled as we drove towards his parents' house.


End file.
